


Blessings in Disguise

by guileheroine



Series: The Everthere [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Office Party, Roommates, Sexual Tension, awkward times yo, restrained fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guileheroine/pseuds/guileheroine
Summary: The opportunity to pretend to be with Korra falling in her lap sounds like some bizarre, if not quite cruel, mockery of serendipity - the peculiarity alone makes her warm to the idea somehow.Asami enlists Korra's help to ward off some unwanted attention, but they don't help themselves in the process. Modern AU.





	Blessings in Disguise

**Author's Note:**

> Imagined as an AU of sorts in the universe of [The Everthere](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8541466/chapters/19581724), and while that context is recommended and will enrich this, it shouldn't be totally incomprehensible without it - this fic is Not Too Serious c:

Asami is stirring the leaves in the bottom of her tea like she’s waiting for a sign to read. It’s been this way for almost three minutes (Korra knows because she is timing the stretches she's doing), ever since she looked at the latest notification on her phone.

 

“Everything alright?”

 

“Mm, yeah.” Asami sucks on her bottom lip before answering, drawing her eyes up slowly, and then quickly down at the screen, though it’s black now. “Yeah, it’s just…” Korra eases out of her stretch somewhat warily as she watches her finally push the cup away. “Remember the gala I told you about?”

 

The… work gala Asami has coming up… on Friday? That, right. “Yeah,” Korra says after a moment, holding her next stretch. “What about it?”

 

Asami seems uncomfortable, and she changes her tack distractedly without answering her. “Do you remember, um, the new controls person at work… The guy who - I told you about him…” She looks to Korra with expectation.

 

So she had. _Yes?_ Korra lets her eyebrows say. “He joined you guys last month,” she recalls and adds, hoping to encourage Asami.

 

Asami jerks her head dismissively, to herself almost. She’s still distracted. “Yeah. He’s just… being weird. Annoying.” It sounds like an understatement to Korra, despite Asami’s best effort.

 

Korra frowns. She pulls out of her final form and crosses her legs on the carpet. “What, like too-clever-by-half annoying, or won’t-leave-you alone annoying?”

 

This isn’t an uncommon issue in Asami’s work life. The firm she works for is small and specialist. Everyone there is wicked whip smart. There are maybe ten women altogether - hard to come by; and the men act like it. The genius complexes do funny things to their manners sometimes.

 

Asami pulls her own knees up so she can turn in her chair and face Korra. “I had coffee with him once. Just on _break_ . I told him I’m not interested, _but_...”

 

Korra feels her ire rise sharply and tries to suppress it. Bites her tongue, and lets the acute displeasure out in a ruthless laugh instead. It’s icy. Asami joins in, shaking her head, though hers is more out of exasperation. It’s funny how much they can communicate simply through this, through knowing laughter, and by funny Korra means infuriating.

 

(And a bit nice, because they’re vibing.)

 

Asami jerks her head again, decisively this time. “I don’t care what he says, it’s just… I’m at work.” Her eyes goggle for emphasis. Korra slumps at the frustration it masks. “It’s a distraction.”

 

Korra is about to ask what this has to do with Asami’s gala, when Asami picks up her phone, clicks it on and hands it over, reaching Korra’s outstretched hand just about.

 

Korra reads a text she wishes she hadn’t.

 

_We both know that someone like you deserves not to go alone. And if you didn’t know, I’m telling you. I’ll be waiting for you._

 

Her hand flies to her mouth, then her brow, her forehead, and her mouth again. Asami’s eyes, when she meets them, glitter with humour even beneath her evident aggravation. Korra mimes throwing up. Asami nods vigorously, mouth threatening to quirk. (Korra doesn't quite feel bad for finding her so endearing in her plight.)

 

“Okay, I was just mad,” she says, her voice heavy with laughter, “but now I’m kind of embarrassed.” Asami’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes, so Korra sobers somewhat; and the weird repulsed mirth dissolves back to annoyance. “But he’s really bothering you?”

 

“He’s been asking me to go with him, and he’s not really giving me an out.” She gestures half-heartedly back to the phone. Korra puts it down in front of her as she droops in sympathy. “Somehow he thinks showing up means I’m saying yes, like I wasn’t invited myself.” The bite in her voice has reared properly for the first time. Asami’s anger compounds Korra’s. “He’s interning too, and they really want the up and comers there. Max and Erika are going to be there, you know.” Asami slumps. “I mean, I’m sure I can handle him, I just - don’t want him to ruin it for me.”

 

Korra understands. Those people Asami’s  just named - she knows them to be important trustees. Two of the many powerful people who would be at the gala. Asami is hoping a solid impression on the night might help her towards a solid offer once her placement is over.

 

“Tell him to fuck off,” Korra suggests blithely after a sad pause, but they both know that that isn’t a real option. Or at least not a sensible one, even if it _were_ something Asami was comfortable with. Korra starts, “Better yet, _I’ll_ tell him to fuck off -”

 

She makes to pick the phone up - and after a pregnant, panicked second, Asami breathes again and laughs a lot, which had been Korra’s plan exactly. She gives Korra a very good-natured dirty look. It tingles.

 

“Anyway. If I show up alone, I know he’s gonna…” Asami scoffs in a way Korra might have found haughty if she didn’t know she was the farthest thing from that. “‘Cause somehow I get the feeling that the only way he’ll shut up is if I came with somebody, ‘cause he can’t seem to take _my_ word for it. I would report him but… you know how it is with this stuff.” She lets out a resigned sigh.

 

Korra thinks she shouldn’t be giving in so easy. Maybe it’d be a tad unethical to bring someone just to deter someone else, but… Surely Asami isn’t out of options. Her cogs wheel. Who is single and pleasant and trustworthy?

 

“Take your flower boy, he’d be happy to be your boyfriend for one night.”

 

Asami smiles suddenly, more at the fact that Korra is actually making suggestions here than anything, but she shrugs it off. “No, that’s not fair. Besides… well, it came up while we were talking -” She grimaces. “He knows I don’t have a boyfriend.”

 

_Of course._

 

Suddenly it clicks, the answer in plain sight.

 

-

 

“Take _me._ ” Korra says, snapping her fingers like she says Asami always does when she hunts down a particularly evasive solution to a problem.

 

Asami's quick to neutralise her expression, though her heart races. Korra is none the wiser, but she will be very soon, if Asami doesn’t find something to say. It’s difficult to find her mental footing because this offer is producing a strange and exhilarating broil of emotions. After an odd, lengthy pause, Asami smiles pitifully (at herself, though Korra doesn’t know that) and crosses her arms. “Korra, you…” Her mouth is dry, but she can’t help her laugh. “You’re - you’re not a great actor…”

 

A blink. “Uh, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Korra picks at the rug before grinning. “I’m serious. How hard can it be? I show up, hold your hand.”

 

Asami is helpless to prevent the blush that’s sure to be spreading across her face, and well aware, so she chooses not to think about it. “You just want free food,” she says. It’s too quiet for a quip, so Korra will know that she’s deliberating.

 

Korra laughs. “I don’t know, is it a three course meal?” She’s drumming the fingers of one hand impatiently on the other - a tentative, enquiring glance up at her, just one - and Asami hopes she isn’t regretting her offer.

 

Because she appreciates it, she truly does. And she’s contemplating it quite seriously. The opportunity to _pretend_ to be with Korra falling in her lap sounds like some bizarre, if not quite cruel, mockery of serendipity - the peculiarity alone makes her warm to the idea somehow.

 

Finally, Asami sets her splayed hands back on the table. “You’re crazy,” she says with affection.

 

Korra’s eyebrows rise in a challenge. “I just have more balls than you!” It takes another hesitant twitch of her mouth for Asami to realise that the last three things she has said to Korra could be interpreted as disparaging. That this isn’t exactly the commitment Korra would’ve been waiting for.

 

“Are you really serious?” She asks sincerely now.

 

“Yeah, I mean, why - why not?” Korra says, looking up to Asami herself for assurance. Then she must have realised that that isn’t particularly convincing - not quite the commitment _Asami’s_ looking for. She steels then, suddenly stubborn. Fingers no longer plucking.

 

“Look. If it’s in my power to not let some _knucklehead…”_ Her obstinance, equally adorable, equally hard (these things somehow not contradictory), makes Asami look down. _“...Jeopardise_ something you’ve been looking forward to for _weeks_ …! Come on, Asami.” She glares, entreatingly.

 

That’s more like it. That’s more like Korra. Her conviction, newly fashioned though it is, fortifies Asami. They’re building each other up here.

 

“Okay,” Asami says evenly, sealing her misgivings away. “Okay, but we have to talk this through.”

 

Korra mirrors the set of her jaw. “We do.”

 

And once that’s that, Korra is emboldened - a short laugh coated in nervous anticipation, and then a gleeful sound in the back of her throat, gaze gleaming with a conspiratorial twinkle. Asami takes it all in with a mix of trepidation and endearment.

 

“If I’m gonna be useful, it’s gotta be girlfriend, not _date_.” The word catches Asami’s heart unawares and it jolts whilst Korra looks up in thought. “We better not screw up. Oh my God, it’ll be like I’m going _undercover_ ,” she says, hand curling in the rug in excitement. “We gotta get our stories straight -”

 

 _Or not,_ Asami thinks faintly. But this _is_ exciting, even as it’s plain ridiculous.

 

Maybe she can use some adventure, spice up the mounting drudgery of work at this time of the year. And she takes some pride in fact that if she can pull - _this_ \- off with anyone without any hiccups - or rather, if _Korra_ can actually pull this off with anyone - it’s probably her. She needs this to go right  (although she has yet to suss out what that means exactly.) Even if Korra tagging along puts more on her shoulders than it takes off, it might be enjoyable in its own right, as long as Asami's primary annoyance is thwarted.

 

She wonders if they can have their fun on a night like _that_ , though. Her new challenge will be to stay on earth.

 

-

 

Talk it through they don’t.

 

“Shit, fuck,” Korra yelps, when she nearly trips at the top of the stairs on her bolt to the girls’ bathroom down from her classroom. She swallows the steps three at a time and swings the door open violently. “Hey! Sorry, I’m so sorry…”

 

Asami, resplendent, looks caught between stiff disappointment and pity, like a model in those high fashion magazines that Korra struggles to take seriously. But she gestures Korra towards the mirror and shakes her head reassuringly. Her shoulders ease, and Korra’s anxiety with it. “It’s okay. We’ll make it, I’m sure. Get dressed. And if not…”

 

“Fashionably late?” Korra pants, unzipping her backpack to pull out the cocktail dress she’s picked out. She gulps another breath down and wrenches her socks and jeans off in one vicious go. The dress could really use an ironing, squeezed in her bag all day, but she doesn’t have time.

 

She pauses very briefly, probably a bit too far into undressing right in front of Asami not to go the whole hog - but Asami has pointedly busied herself with her makeup. Whatever.

 

“All good?” Asami asks shortly, as Korra tries repeatedly to smooth out the creases over her thighs. “I’ll brief you in the car.” She pulls a mascara wand twice over Korra’s lashes whilst Korra clicks in an old pair of earrings she found languishing in her back pocket.

 

So the plan had been to sort their P.O.A. out over breakfast before class. Later, Asami would pick her up on the way to the gala (hence the poorly packed dress), since Korra didn’t finish until the evening. But then Asami had been called away to cover for someone at work long before Korra awoke. And now Korra’s class had run overtime.

 

No one’s fault, really. Korra knows that Asami certainly doesn’t think it’s hers, but the air is different right now. It takes her the walk to the car to understand that it’s because - because it _feels_ like the show is technically on, now that they’re dressed up. The show they haven’t rehearsed for.

 

The journey is awfully slow for one that gives them little time to talk things over.

 

“Breathe, Asami,” Korra says eventually. “Cold feet?”

 

Asami’s terse hands on the wheel relax, and she laughs. “No way. Whew. Sorry. Okay.” She turns to smile at her, though Korra can feel her nerves. “New plan, alright?” She says, leaving Korra no time to wonder what the old one would have been. “We just…” She waits to finish making a turn to speak, but then the silence lingers. Korra watches her with some sympathy - and witnessing her anxiety, she knows it’s her job to alleviate it. That’s why she’s coming along in the first place, isn’t it? She crosses her arms decisively, clearing her throat.

 

“So. What… What are we?”

 

“Our story is our story,” Asami continues slowly, tasting every word before it leaves her mouth. “I mean, like…”

 

Korra takes the meaning and gives one curt, focused nod. “Everything as usual except…”

 

“Yeah,” Asami says, removing one hand from the wheel and meeting her eyes. “Except the being together thing.”

 

They share a glance of understanding. Korra reaches and takes the hand briefly. “Got it.” So all she has to be careful of, really, is her terminology. _Girlfriend,_ she tells herself. And the rest is business as usual.

 

Surely that makes it easier?  That doesn’t sound hard at all.

 

-

 

That sounds ideal.

 

Which makes it tough. Which makes it distracting. Which is exactly why Asami had wanted to work out some history very different to the reality, to ensure that no lines that shouldn’t blur blurred. It would probably make things harder for Korra, but Asami knows that here she has to prioritise her own mind, her clarity of mind.

 

She’d thought she had a sudden, sick change of heart when Korra first turned around in her dress. It looked as pretty on her as anything, pale purple ruched delicately across the piece like tiny sheaves of lavender. She had tried to scratch out the little wayward creases, but they were mostly hidden in the folds. Korra looked beautiful (needless to say), but more than that (though not _more_ than that) she looked honest and a little bit artless; and Asami had clammed up heavy with dread at the prospect of having to only make like she was in love with her. To look at her, and talk to her, and touch her, so that everyone in a room thought one way and Korra knew another.

 

She isn’t that great of an actor.

 

“You’ll be great. Just pretend I’m Beyonce.” Korra’s voice brings her back.

 

Right, and she keeps forgetting. It’s being _with Korra_ that’s supposed to the weird part. Well, it is - but not like she thinks. The hard part is not giving away that it isn’t weird at all.

 

It’s ideal.

 

“You too, I promise. Be yourself.” She gives Korra a wry smile. “I mean, it’s _me_.”

 

“Exactly!” Korra beams, nodding, excited even.

 

It takes longer than it should to find a parking spot, because let’s face it, they _are_ late, if only by ten or so minutes.

 

The search lends Korra an extra few minutes to rev up. She realises with an ‘oh!’ where they are after a intense peer around for the parking lot signage - the midtown Hilton, where she had apparently dropped Tenzin off for some kind of meeting once after one of their catch-up brunches. Asami shivers as they stalk their way around to the entrance, where a doorman ushers them into an elevator, and another in the direction of a convention room. It’s warm and golden in the hotel. As they turn the corner for the glassy doors, the sound of intermingled chatter rising, Korra takes her hand in a firm grip. It feels like a cue, though she can tell she’s done it partly out of trepidation, on instinct.

 

“So, will I know him when I see him?”

 

It takes a second for her words to filter through, before Asami shrugs with a little snigger. “Probably not, they all look the same.”

 

Korra scoffs. “Bet you’re the best looking person at this party.”

 

Someone so still Asami barely noticed them steps forward to hold the door open. She gives Korra a final glance before walking in. “Oh, Korra, save it for the _audience_.” So they enter, lighter than they’d expected.

 

The room is modestly sized for a convention hall, but splendid. Two of four walls are more like ceiling-height windows, the city two floors below glinting up against the darkening sky. The tables are longer and squarer than Asami would have expected, but there’s still room enough for a makeshift bar and an interactive display of everything the firm has been up to lately, like an elegant digital bulletin. “Ooh,” they decide in unison, Korra leading her to it as soon as it's noticed. The light reflects in her eyes as she stabs buttons on the projection to read about various projects.

 

Asami wipes her finally free hand on her thigh and stands behind Korra to admire the display. She halts in its tracks the instinct to scan around for everyone she knows, instead peering over Korra’s shoulder. Korra turns back to her briefly, before she presses the screen again to turn the virtual page, the stark blue light falling back on her face. “So how much of this did you do?” She asks, embarrassingly.

 

Asami laughs, looking down affectionately before she sucks in her bottom lip. She’s certain Korra has no idea what much of this means, but her wide-eyed interest makes her heart warm. It won't keep her attention long, but for as long as it does Asami is satisfied. “Um… go back to that one. That - I’m working on that one with Kasem. But they let me home in on the materials, to look at devising some alternative models for my thesis…” Her fingers hover over an image, pushing Korra’s out of the way. “The stuff I was printing last week, remember?”

 

Korra’s eyes light up in recognition. She’s about ask a follow-up question about Asami’s work for the first time in her life, and Asami is about to listen sweetly and answer, when a call draws their eyes and ears.

 

-

 

She senses Asami loosen almost instantly, when she sees who called her name.

 

A dark man with a voice like the depth of a well, who makes Asami look tiny, comes and envelopes her in a short but solid embrace. Korra stands aside just in time.

 

“Hey,” Asami says warmly as he releases her. “Kasem.”

 

He speaks candidly to only Asami first, so Korra just observes him: eagle eyes and nose set in a warm, doughy face. “I wish I could repay you for covering earlier, Asami. You know we just needed those tests done by today.” His voice becomes wide again as Asami waves the thanks away. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. And you brought your friend!”

 

Korra bites her tongue as she accepts his handshake; catches Asami’s eye urgently - _you correct him!_ (which is a thought bizarre enough it takes a moment  to occur, since he actually has it perfectly right.) “Uh, Korra,” she says hastily, “nice to meet you.” No sooner than she has, she feels a steady hand on the centre of her back.

 

Thank God Asami’s here. It seems inconsequential - he isn't the target Korra’s itching to fire at - but this is important. They have to set a precedent if they’re going to keep anything up all evening.

 

“Actually, Kasem,”  Asami says evenly; and Korra can tell this person makes her comfortable. She meets his eyes and not hers. “This is my girlfriend.”

 

Korra bites her tongue again. _Yes_ , she was about to add, before she realised what a strange and unnecessary qualification that would have been; and she quickly smiles at him instead to… enrich the statement.

 

“Oh, wonderful! You never told me…” He claps a hand on each of their arms. “Nice to meet you, Korra! Well, don’t you make a beautiful pair!”

 

Korra finds she can't help her grin. When she finally looks at Asami, a laugh slips out of them both. “Oh,” Asami says suddenly, a little flustered. The hand that had briefly fallen away returns to Korra's back, this time a genuine gesture of reassurance. “Uh, you know about Kasem -” and when she says _you_ Korra realises she’s talking to both Korra and ‘Asami’s girlfriend’; and she understands why Asami had thought it would be useful to talk her _character_ through first. Because now she’s merely playing a version of herself, which means constantly finding where she is as she goes. Not two people, but something in between.

 

“You’re Asami’s boss,” she says dutifully. It tastes strange. To say _Asami_ knowing that her listener thinks she’s talking about the person she loves. Loves like _that_ \- she does love Asami.

 

Kasem bows his head. “Well, I prefer _supervisor_ , but I hear she already has one of those…” He trails off as he spies someone beyond them from his towering height. “I have to check up with _my_ boss now, but please, come sit with us at dinner.” He gives a charismatic nod before sliding away.

 

As soon as Kasem is out of earshot, Asami exhales audibly. It’s tinged with excitement though. This _is_ fun. It feels like they're getting away with something. Asami almost cackles when Korra whispers, “Up top!”

 

 _No_ , she mouths sternly, but she giggles aloud again immediately after.

 

Korra laughs back. “Fine, just hold my hand, then.”

 

Asami’s loath for Korra to leave her side until she encounters the root of their problems, and indeed, Korra has one job, so she keeps close to her as they procure some wine and people-watch, stopping on occasion to greet various acquaintances of hers.

 

“How long have you guys been together?” Springs one fresh-faced girl on them, pressing a dainty hand to her chest in pleasant surprise.

 

Their eyes find each other almost automatically, so they try to temper the look, in case it had been abrupt, with easy smiles. They probably look like one of those couples who can't get a word out about the other without melting, and it kind of amuses Korra.

 

“We just met in college,” she says smoothly. “It’s been a few -”

 

“About a year or so,” Asami says over her. Korra’s voice retracts into her as soon as she registers the incongruence - worried she’s made a fatal mistake. But she understands Asami’s intervention - longer is better. Longer means they're the real deal.

The girl - Cassie - nods eagerly between them, though Korra does spot a wrinkle of perplexity in her brow.

 

“So, Cassie,” Asami continues quickly, “did you bring your boyfriend?” She puts that hand on Korra’s back again for a moment, which helps her recover.

 

Cassie is more than happy to babble on about her boyfriend. Korra watches Asami smile on kindly. She's compelled to reach for her hand again, before she knows it.

 

And as they continue, she sometimes finds it opportune, finds it appropriate, to touch her. A little more than usual, a little more conscious than usual: a clasp around the wrist, swipe of the shoulder; and of course, Asami takes it in perfect stride. Korra does wonder if she’s truly just a bad actress, though, because Asami returns these gestures almost thoughtlessly. Doesn't blink or pause in her sentence or anything of the sort when her fingers brush Korra’s elbow, or fall into their crook for a whole impressive minute. She’s just a natural.

 

Korra assumes it’s one such seamlessly executed casual display of affection when she feels Asami’s gentle hand at the small of her back. But then she notices Asami’s gaze fixed ahead, directing her own, and an inconspicuous nod.

 

Before she notices anything, though, she swallows a sigh.

 

“What?” She whispers, with a little cough, though she already knows.

 

In the doorway is a man talking to one of the faces they had said hi to earlier; open, animated in his manner. Korra can tell he’s the kind of guy who is gorgeous any day of the year, but it’s immediately apparent from his body language that he’s happy to milk that fact for all its advantages.

 

“Jackass,” she whispers under her breath. Asami doesn’t laugh, or even shush her. She steps in front of Korra and walks, with a wordless instruction for her to follow.

 

When he sees her coming he excuses himself from the other man. The way his brows flash as Asami approaches makes Korra feel… provoked.

 

“Asami,” he drawls. It’s a harmless voice, rich even, but she doesn’t trust it.

 

“Hi, Felix,” says Asami politely, practically simpering, although she’s standing with her arms crossed. They’re crossed almost _sweetly_. God, she’s good.

 

He bites his lip. “You… look good. So good, Asami, you can take it from me. And who’s this? When did you _get_ here? And you didn’t wait up for me?” He sounds like a second rate radio host. Korra forces herself not to roll her eyes.

 

Asami grimaces, though _he_ can hardly tell. “A while ago, actually. Have you seen Mia around? I had to cover for her again today, and Kasem said I need a prototype by April.”

 

“Oh, alright,” he laughs appreciatively, as if a child has just told him something precocious. “No, I haven’t, Asami. Shame you’re getting held up,” he says, weirdly consoling, as if she needs that from him. Korra’s skin prickles as he gives Asami another once-over. He lays a hand on her arm as if they’re the best of friends.

 

She can practically feel Asami tense, so she steps forward, breaking the bubble he’s been trying to create. Finally, Felix turns to her again, plastic surprise contorting his features.

 

“Oh, sorry - I didn’t mean to be rude…” He sticks the hand not on Asami out and does that awful eyebrow flash. “Felix.” It’s easy to see his game: he wants Asami to see how impossibly _absorbing_ she is to him, enough that he’s blind to other pretty girls.

 

How precious.

 

“Felix,” she repeats, nodding, like she doesn’t already know. Her tongue curls on the name nonetheless. “I’m Korra.”

 

He blinks at her pretentiously, awaiting more.

 

Korra draws the moment out just to bask in her smugness, or annoy him, or something. Asami’s fingers meet and wind in the hand she reaches out unconsciously as she steps even closer.  She can’t even manage a _good to meet you._ “I’m Asami’s girlfriend.”

 

He looks as if he’s been struck for a second. Then he catches the scoff before it leaves his throat and beats it into an innocent laugh. Korra is too caught up in the immense pleasure of crushing him to realise that Asami is holding her - really holding her for the first time. When she meets her eyes discreetly, they’re twinkling, deeply self-satisfied. She has slid her arm all the way around Korra’s waist and is holding fast, like she’s showing her off. Basking in her.

 

-

 

“Oh!” Felix says finally, like he’s solved a riddle at last. “Really now? Well.” All the while Asami hasn’t bothered to un-narrow her quietly withering gaze, but now, as he splutters, she finally does. Before she can formulate the perfectly oblivious reply to sufficiently aggravate him, Korra speaks.

 

“Yeah - so my girlfriend tells me you’re the new guy around here. Are you feeling up to scratch?”  

 

A great many things about that retort spike Asami’s attention: the utter failure to present her distaste innocently, though the gist of her angle is apparent; the dismissal of his reaction; the tightness in her voice. In the body under the drape of Asami’s arm, too - Korra is intense, though she contains it well. And the strangely ardent taunt she makes of _girlfriend_ ; the gentle force in it that makes Asami as viscerally _sad_ as it’s supposed to make Felix bitter.

 

Still, Asami knows she’s won right now. She turns a second pair of expectant eyes on Felix and waits.

 

“It’s - I’m great,” he barks emphatically, almost defensively. It’s hilarious.

 

 _We know_ , Asami thinks, biting her cheek, and tries to share the humour of this in a squeeze of Korra’s hip - before she finds it’s too - _horribly_ \- intimate, and has to pretend her stomach hasn’t gone cold. Korra doesn’t even blink, only the barest hint of an acknowledging smile on her lips. Asami pulls her mind together with an effort, though, because here are the lines blurring.

 

A joke for the two of them - that couldn’t really, justifiably, be something that went through the channel of the performance, of her arm around her waist.  Asami swallows and tries not curl her free fist, but she’s desperately forlorn for a moment. A fool, falling for her own make-believe.

 

This man’s face isn’t helping, as ever.

 

“I’m kinda hungry,” she says, to Korra more than Felix, tilting her head in the direction of the hors d'oeuvres, and excuses herself. Never mind that dinner is mere minutes from being served, and Korra was probably just about to point the fact out. She leaves her to put Felix in his place and sits to find her feet for a minute.

 

The hors d’oeuvres are cute. She sets her canape on its tiny plate. Her purse clacks as it opens and she retrieves her phone. Several alerts await on her home screen - messages from Kasem. Asami chews slowly as she reads.

 

_Asami - had a little chat with Max earlier and I’d really like for you to meet him at dinner_

 

_Great to see your girl by the way :) Both of you lovely. So glad you came_

 

 _Shit_ , she thinks somewhat half-heartedly, and swallows (the other half of her heart quite chuffed at the telling promise of a chance to engage the man who could hire her.) But - it seems that Kasem had thought Korra’s non-existence until this point spoke to some sort of insecurity on Asami’s part. She had forgotten - her social media is open to most of her colleagues, and she knows many details of their private lives… It stands to reason that they might expect to know the crucial ones of hers.

 

There’s room for plausible deniability, though: Korra does feature heavily in all of her feeds. Perhaps an afterthought - but she quickly posts a photo they’d taken earlier by the display today and captions it with a lot of reliably ambiguous hearts. This isn’t a big deal, thankfully. Although she can’t fault anyone for snagging on the sudden appearance of a significant other, she can probably just write it off as being the private person that she is.

 

She wonders if she _would be_ , though. Maybe - but, no, she probably wouldn’t think twice about showing off if, uh, Korra was her girl.

 

Anyway. The problem here and now in the real world is that _Felix_ can’t think there’s a microgram of insecurity in her ‘relationship’ to be derisive of. Asami has to steel herself and execute a stellar performance, without faltering. She glances over at Korra. Her arms are crossed, hip jutted, as Felix prattles away. She isn’t giving him anything. Asami smiles and takes a small bite. She leaves Korra there where she is, out of her mind, and lets her eyes rove around as she enjoys the rest of her canape. The prospect of a specially-arranged introduction is doing a good bit to clear her perspective, and to lift her mood.

Still, it isn’t long before the keen sadness is wrenched back.

 

The sound of an eager breath draws her attention away from her plate. Asami looks up to find Cassie, who waits for her acquiescent smile before taking the seat beside her.

 

“Hey, Asami.” She inclines her head briefly before tucking her seat in. A little awkward and a lot restless and blunt - she reminds Asami of Korra sometimes, but she’s just bouncy enough that Korra would balk at such a notion.

 

Asami glances around as she brushes crumbs from her fingers. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

 

“Bathroom. Where’s _your_ girlfriend?”

 

Asami blows a laugh through her nose before swallowing to reply. “Over there.” She raises her chin in the direction of Felix and Korra.

 

“Oh.” Cassie grimaces. “Freak. I dunno how she can stand to talk to him.” She looks at Asami knowingly, chin in her hands.

 

Asami’s breath in response is caught between a laugh and a sigh. “She’s just doing me a favour,” she says enigmatically, watching Cassie’s brow rise in curiosity. The almost poignant understanding in her eyes makes Asami consider telling her the truth of the matter for a moment, before she decides that it would be unfair to Korra. To Korra who is putting her best, wobbly foot forward all for her.

 

If Cassie has any peculiar questions, she puts them aside for a more acceptable one. “I remember you saying you guys met in college, right?”

 

It’s only then that Asami recalls their slip up earlier. Her stomach tightens. It’s utterly plain from her question now that Cassie had caught it. _A few,_ Korra had begun to say, before Asami drowned her. No matter. She can smooth that wrinkle right now. “Yeah. We’ve actually known each other for a few years,” she says. “Together for about one,” she reaffirms, content smile betraying nothing.

 

“That’s really cool,” Cassie says. “Did you always like each other?”

 

Something twists in her again.

 

She catches herself before the silence draws too long. “Um, I don’t know. I always liked her.”

 

So strange to voice the words - Asami almost expects to feel a noose around her neck - except here is a moment, an evening, where they’re not only entirely appropriate but _useful_. It strikes her, not for the first time or the last, how incredibly weird this situation is.

 

“Freaking adorable,” Cassie says, stifling her smile with a palm. Asami wishes. “When did you tell her?”

 

There it is again.

 

This time Asami really is at a loss, and not only for her current lack of words. She looks down at her palm clenching in her lap. And nothing comes, and the twinge gets worse, until she simply smiles back up at her. Cassie looks like she’s beginning to think she’s overstepped her boundaries, though, honestly, Asami wouldn’t really have minded the question if -

 

Well, if Korra was her girl.

 

The clink of metal on glass breaks the painful tension. They turn in unison to the central table, and the stately looking couple who are stood waiting for the room’s attention. The man speaks, asking them all to be seated for dinner, while Asami breathes and straightens her hands on her lap, listening with half an ear. Then she excuses herself, before stopping again to invite Cassie to the table with her.

 

All the better, because Cassie slides into the third to last seat around the table they find Kasem on right as Felix is about to. She places her purse on the second to last, for her boyfriend. Korra throws Felix the dirtiest look as she takes the final one on Asami’s other side, the one that he has no real choice but to leave for _Asami’s date_ ; and she has to laugh, because this is exactly the kind of irritation they had planned to thwart.

 

The moment of satisfaction doesn’t distract Korra from her immediate curious concern. “You okay? You ran off.” She says quietly as everyone shuffles into their seats.

 

“Fine. Just wanted a minute, you know he gets to me,” Asami replies, not untruthfully. Korra listens intently against the commotion and produces a pout of sympathetic understanding, and those are twice as endearing as her indignant pouts, if it’s possible. Before she can respond, the table quietens.

 

Erika, Max’s wife, is at its head with her husband. She welcomes them, performs the indulgent spiel Asami knows from her last visit to the company, beckoning for the wine as the food is served. Meanwhile, Korra takes her hand under the table. It’s a subtle close to their conversation cut short, but Asami, on the heels of an agonising look in the proverbial mirror, seizes up at the touch. Korra tenses in turn, mid-reassuring squeeze, and withdraws swiftly.

 

When the talk disperses back to smaller conversations, she turns to her again. Asami detects a hint of tiredness or resignation or _something_ like that in her face.

 

“Sorry I ditched ya,” she says quickly, awaiting a laugh or a smile. When one comes, despite the dullness about Korra, a wave of warmth crashes in her chest. “I hope you didn’t sass him too much.”

 

“Hope again,” Korra says drily. There’s still a cloud in her eyes. Asami is keenly aware of the abrupt regret with which Korra had retracted her hand, and of Cassie and her perky ears on her other side.

 

She puts her knife down and her knuckles to Korra’s cheek. In reassurance. “Are _you_ alright?”

 

Korra starts slightly, and the shrimp on her fork plops back onto its plate. “Sure.” She says, nodding, while Asami tries to forget the feeling of her warm skin. “It’s just -” she sighs and brings herself closer to Asami’s ear. “He told me something, Felix did.” Asami’s listening, swallowing her next bite slow. “He said there was just one permanent position up for grabs next year, and that he pretty much had it in the bag. I don’t know, does that bother you?”

 

Asami scowls as she takes this in. “Oh, what, ‘take it from him’?” She makes her best effort to look unperturbed, shaking her head subtly. “You know, I wouldn’t be so... _cocksure_ if I was him. Ignore him, I do. What happens will happen.” Korra only blinks. “Yeah? Sweetie?”

 

With only the faintest trace of satisfaction in her eyes, Korra slowly nods, and Asami begins to realise this can’t be the whole of whatever’s eating her. Finally, almost as an afterthought, Korra snorts, tapping her fork against a little smile. “Sweetie?”

 

Asami rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m just trying to be - a _considerate_ girlfriend,” she laughs quietly. She’s blushing down to her bones - grateful for the blanket of makeup on her face. “No wonder you’re single, Korra.”  

 

Korra shushes her loudly, laughingly. Asami coughs to stifle her own laughter and catches Kasem’s eye across the table. His expression lets her know that he’s waiting for the chance to talk. Asami straightens and leans forward to engage him.

 

-

 

Korra’s starving. As soon as Asami turns away, she scoffs down the rest of her fancy linguine. Then she downs her glass of wine. Then she pushes her plate gently up the table and crosses her arms over it and waits.

 

Asami is deep in conversation with the her boss and _the_ bosses, two of the trustees whose table she hadn’t expected to be seated at. They look like a couple to Korra - almost everyone here is paired off, it’s that kind of event, and she feels renewed relief and confidence in their… plot. The dude endlessly slings her eager questions - but the lady is simply nodding at Asami serenely, almost lovingly, as she answers them.

 

Korra gets it.

 

She scratches an itch under her eye and slumps forward slightly again. Her cheek still tingles from where Asami had touched - the sheer surprise had done that. And something else. It was nice of Asami to reassure her, though. It’s harder than ever to tell when Asami’s acting and when she isn’t; and it’s beginning to occur to Korra that maybe there isn’t such a distinction between the two. That there needn’t be one. Because the effect of Asami’s actions towards her are all very real, whatever her intentions are. In fact, Asami’s intentions are genuine too, whatever their particular embellished form looks like today - the touches and words of reassurance no less heartfelt for being a little… extra.

 

Korra casts back to her incredibly trying conversation with Felix. He’s an insufferable tool of a guy but that had been entirely her expectation. So Korra had felt duly mad on Asami’s behalf, but she had also felt deeply jealous for the entirety of their barely just civil interaction, which can't really be on anyone's behalf but her own.

 

And that’s where she is. She glances at her empty wineglass.

 

The guy on her other side notices her look, and kindly proffers the bottle on _his_ other side. She sits up with a “Thanks!” as he pours her a little more.

 

“I’m Daniel,” he says by way of reply. “I haven’t seen you around. Are you with Asami?”

 

She isn't sure which sense of the word he means that in, but for someone reason she feels awfully disingenuous saying _girlfriend_ without Asami’s presence for permission - not dishonest to him, but her. Embarrassed, even - she thinks about how unconsciously, _cavalierly_ she had taken her hand, under the table, where there was no audience.

 

“Yeah. We live together.” Perfectly true.

 

“Ah, cool.” He nods forward with a vibrant smile. “They’re really digging her, huh?”

“Oh,” Korra says. “Yeah! I mean, she’s pretty great, from what I can tell.”

 

“But you’re biased,” he says, grinning.

 

True. She rolls her eyes. “Around _here_ , I mean. Work.”

 

He puts his hands up and laughs. “Gotcha. She is pretty great. Easier to work with than a lot of folks around here, let me tell you. Tell me, does she do the old school memos at home, too?”

 

“She has a _whiteboard!_ ” Korra laughs. “No, it’s pretty useful, actually. She’s totally right about it working better than phones. And she tells me to use it and, like, does _not_ leave any space for me.”

 

It’s hard to talk about Asami without melting.

 

Daniel nods through his chuckle before it ebbs into an appreciative smile - for Asami, for Korra and the moment they’re sharing. For the two of them together. “I take it you guys are enjoying yourselves. Asami told me a friend was moving into her new place.”

 

Korra makes a bizarre ‘mm’ of agreement and ducks her head into her arms on the table, smiling down for a moment. So he hadn’t meant are you _with_ with Asami back there - no one seems to, and that sort of annoys her, because aren't they putting on a good show? It brings her back to her purpose here, which is all too easy to lose in the simple fact that there isn’t much to _act_ unless she is thrown certain direct questions, given the nature of her daily life with Asami.

 

“We’re, um, m-”

 

 _More than friends._ Who the fuck says that?

 

“We’re together, actually,” she musters, more tactfully than she feels, raising him a wry eyebrow, “but I suppose friend’s not inaccurate.” She’s sure he can justify the omission of this information on Asami’s part; she wouldn’t have known any of these colleagues for long when Korra moved in.

 

As soon she says it, Korra somewhat panics, because she’s up on stage again. Again, she makes an effort to distinguish her role tonight and her real self in her mind, checking no contradictions have slipped her notice in this conversation. It’s a nitty task, to hold all this apart in her mind. There are few potential contradictions to consider except dates and names - superficial things - and the heat this vague realisation triggers make her laugh nervously. Fix some numbers around and her friendship is romance ready.

 

“Oh, you are? I’m sorry,” Daniel is saying, taken aback more with embarrassment at his oversight than real surprise. “That’s super nice. Good _catch_ , may I be so bold as to say!” He chuckles again and Korra’s apprehension disappears at the jaunty sound.

 

“Don’t I know it.” She smiles, and frowns as soon as he looks away to adjust his cuff.

 

Daniel’s attention returns with a gentle cough. “You guys meet in college?”

 

“Yeah. My freshman year - well, Asami was a sophomore.”

 

“That long?” His eyebrows rise almost seriously. Korra is quick to catch his misunderstanding.

 

“No, I mean, we’re - we were friends.” He looks expectant. “And, uh -”

 

Here’s the hard part, that she can't simply draw from memory, or even a blueprint, since they’d had no time to work such details out. The part of the story that seems unwilling to breach the safe bounds of her head, like she hasn’t yet thought its meaning through even if her imagination is managing to draw something up with relative ease. “We just… you know,” she finishes, with a smile and a shrug.

 

Does he, though?

 

Korra clears her throat. She is not gonna blow this. “We figured why not...because we loved each other a lot.”

 

She doesn't remember thinking that, devising it. It just comes out.

 

Daniel can hardly help his grin and his infectious laugh resounds again. “Oh, that is too sweet for a grinch like me. Asami’s not gonna hear the end of that.”

 

Korra would hardly describe him that way, though she laughs along. Her stomach isn’t up for dessert for the first time in living memory, but she eats to keep occupied, washing it down with more wine.

 

Just as she is about to finish her pudding, the president rises at the head table again, one over from theirs. A calm falls over the room almost instantly. After a lengthy preamble, he begins to come around to the point of his speech, and Daniel releases a sarcastic groan beside Korra.

 

Asami gives him a look in kind across her as she wipes some jam from her mouth and reapplies her lipstick. Korra tries to watch the old man and not that.

 

They’re doing some semi-formal honours. For innovation, diligence and the like. Semi because they inject the dedications with friendly anecdotes about the employees - and they haven't produced any certificates yet - but Daniel whispers in Korra’s ear that these recognitions are fit to put on your resume.

 

Once the higher up heavy hitters have got their dues, it’s the interns’ turns. Their firm, Daniel says, prizes above all potential wherever it sees it, and as such the few brilliant interns they take on are indulged like team babies. Korra understands the look between Daniel and Asami now. They’re going to be shoo-ins, judging by the looks on everyone’s faces.

 

Asami first. Korra tries not to stare too openly through the CEO man’s ramble, but screw it, everyone else is doing the same - so she watches Asami smile and squirm through the speech about her dedication and talent. She glows through her slight embarrassment, lifting her eyes to other friends, to Korra once, biting her lip to contain her bashful smile. Korra’s chest is bursting, whether from pride or from her sheer diffident beauty, she isn’t sure.

 

Applause, finally. Cassie squeezes Asami’s arm briefly. It jolts Korra into action. Her first blind instinct is to take Asami’s arm, but then she lifts it to her shoulder and squeezes. No, too platonic. She _strokes_. Asami turns at the touch, blushing more than ever, and Korra touches the hand to her cheek, the lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“What are you doing?” Asami laughs, leaning forward.

 

Korra pulls herself towards her to speak quietly. “Well, that guy’s girlfriend straight up kissed him when he got his award, so we have to keep up…” And he received a lesser honour, by the sounds of it.

 

“Oh.” Asami smiles again and closes her hand over the one Korra has on her shoulder. For once, Korra thinks she’s more conscious of everyone’s eyes on them than Asami is, but it’s true, everyone’s eyes _are_ on Asami right now. They need to be safe.

 

She pulls Asami’s hand to her and kisses it quickly. Asami’s composure is tip top, as usual.

 

For the remainder of the address, Asami sits back in her seat, her arm around Korra’s shoulders. The position makes it a little awkward for Korra to reach for her drink. Makes it a little difficult to hear the words, whenever Asami shifts a little, and the weight of her skin becomes different and conspicuous, or the smell of her perfume wafts anew. Her hands move in an absent stroke on Korra’s shoulder. She wonders if Asami’s doing that on purpose or not. Korra can feel the drink in her fingertips now. She reaches up and plays with Asami’s fingers, does what the other couples are doing. This position, it’s a good choice on Asami’s part - easy, constant, not too… performative. Comfortable.

 

So much so that Korra doesn’t realise that her head is in Asami’s shoulder until Asami coughs and says, “Sleepy, Korra?”

 

Korra blinks.

 

They’re _acting_ , Korra understands, when Asami says quieter, “Are you really sleepy?”, though if there’s a difference in her tone, Korra can’t tell it. Asami blinks intently, tilting her head to Korra.

 

Korra shakes her head very slightly, Asami in all her five senses now. They stare each other down a little bit, Asami’s chest rising and falling evenly under the high neck of her dress. Her hand is still dancing on Korra’s skin.

 

-

 

Her hand has a mind of its own. She can’t seem to rein it in, so she’s almost as relieved as she is regretful when the speeches end and life returns to the individuals around the tables. It’s no longer appropriate or necessary to be holding Korra. Korra doesn’t budge, though. She’s in passive cling mode, which means either that she’s tired or a bit drunk or just… Off, somehow. A gnaw of concern comes back to Asami. She considers Korra again. Korra finishes straightening in her chair and doesn’t look back at Asami.

 

The waiters come to clear the tables and they find themselves perched on a bench along the side of the bar, relishing absently the post-food langour, making not truly candid conversation. It’s pleasant enough, but Korra’s still not _here_ with Asami. Weary, perhaps?

 

“Do you wanna go home now?” She decides to be direct - whatever Korra wants.

 

“No!” Korra’s eyes are wide. “I mean, no. We shouldn’t yet, right?” She surprises Asami with the urgency of her reply.

 

“Alright,” she says, nodding. “I just… I figured you might be getting tired of this.” She gathers the folds of her skirt in one hand to resettle in her position next to her. Korra moves up a little to make more space. “I know this isn’t the quickest favour. Or the easiest.”

 

Korra is deathly still for a moment. Asami almost glances to her in question. Then she appears to catch herself and says, “Of course not. Hey. No, Asami… I’m your girl, right? This was my idea.”

 

Asami huffs a tiny laugh at her wording. It makes her think of Kasem’s message. She tucks her legs in more comfortably, closer to Korra, and fishes her phone out. “Look,” she says. “My boss totally digs us.” It rings true, what Kasem says - even if Korra isn’t hers like that. She feels little embarrassment showing her. Korra’s brows rise when she reads, the rest of her face blank for a second until a smile cracks and transforms it.

 

“Thought you were gonna show me another lovely Felix text.” She reddens, staring at the words long. Asami’s heart skips the beat it does every time Korra blushes and smiles like that. Korra takes another sip of her wine, and Asami think she should warn her from too much more.

 

“We look pretty cute together, huh? I never really thought about… about,” she laughs, giving in to her struggle, “um, that.”

 

Every beat Asami’s heart has ever skipped rushes in at once. She doesn’t manage an appreciative laugh, her breath stolen. “Yeah, how come?”

 

Korra shrugs, tapping the stem of her glass absently. Her voice is small. “Don’t know. I’d never thought about you like that.”

 

Asami purses her lips. She doesn’t meet her eyes; she doesn’t trust herself to speak. But she tries to smile, taking a sizeable gulp from her own glass. Did Korra say I _had_? Does that mean she has a - verdict now?

 

Is she expecting Asami’s side of the story?

 

_I think about it all the time, personally. I can’t stop thinking about you like that._

 

She inhales to reply (something suitably dry) when Korra does the same; Asami allows a tentatively playful smile to threaten the set of her mouth. The action morphs into another sip to allow Korra to speak first. But Korra herself stops in her tracks when she looks ahead - Daniel is approaching from the bar. His eyes are bright, and he’s making a beeline for Asami.

 

“Hey, lovebirds. Move over.” He has three raspberry ripple tarts balanced between his hands. From the corner of her eye Asami sees Korra flush, her face behind her glass.

 

“Go away,” Asami says, moving over, but Korra laughs. They take a tart each. Daniel’s presence helps her calibrate. Her role is clearer with a third party here, terribly treacherous with just the two of them. She can tell by the lightness of her laugh that Korra feels the same way. Korra grabs Asami’s hand when Daniel makes a show of shoving between them, but he actually goes to sit beside her in the space she has made.

 

It’s almost too much to know that Korra’s thinking about _them_. What is she thinking, now that she’s thinking? Likely, she’s trying to square their existing relationship with this novel notion, a fun game, since she’s never really thought about it, you know? Somehow the thought hurts, sticks uncomfortable in Asami’s throat. Maybe she’s just thinking how weird it would be.

 

But maybe she’s thinking how _not_.

 

Maybe she’d be snapping her fingers and thinking _of course_ if they weren’t clutched in Asami’s.

 

It’s something Asami dreamed about - Korra thinking about her - but all of a sudden, she doesn’t want to know. It’s easier to never know than have Korra come to a conscious conclusion, a conscious rejection. That’s not something Asami’s sure she can live with, so they’re going to have to talk at some point if it is the case. Oh well.

 

As long as Korra is careful with her heart, Asami supposes, as long as she is considerate she can fault no one. And Korra will be. Korra takes the responsibility of Asami’s feelings very seriously. She’s resolute and steadfast in the face of this responsibility. Her presence here tonight is evidence enough of that.

 

Korra snatches her hand away to better get at her tart. She and Daniel are talking over Asami. Asami feels wrong sitting between and not contributing.

“Wanna see my dog?!” Korra’s saying. She holds her phone out to him. “Here she is! Naga.”

 

“Oh, so this is Naga. My, that is a dog.” His eyes widen behind his glasses and Asami shares Korra’s satisfactory grin.

 

“You should meet her,” Asami says. “You spend your life at the park, she’d love you.”

 

“She _would!_ ” Korra enthuses. “Next week! Lemme know when you’re out.”

 

Daniel laughs his assent, pushing his glasses up. “Speaking of next week, are you guys free Saturday? I’m just having a birthday thing downtown, it’d be great if you came.”

 

Asami has to stop herself from looking to Korra, sirens blaring in her head. “Um,” she says quickly, “I’d love to, but, uh, I don’t know if Korra’s free-”

 

No way she’s dragging Korra into another evening of this.

 

“Sure!” Korra says, nodding. It’s only then that she catches Asami’s expression, and some wariness, some cognizance enters her face. “Oh, uh if… if you want to, Asami.”

 

Relief. Oh, Korra. “I don’t mind,” Asami says, looking at her hands.

 

“Great.” Korra’s voice is small again.

 

In her odd jubilation, Asami forgets to hope that neither of them will regret this. That Korra wants to be her girlfriend for one more evening is a bulky enough notion to assimilate. She has to wait and let them talk over her for another few minutes.

 

-

 

It’s half past eleven when Korra finds herself bereft of company again. Asami has been with her boss people for over a half hour since they dispersed for coffee. Korra doesn’t really know any of the people that are left here - Asami’s friends are in the same small group with her, talking shop.

 

She goes and stands by one of the wall-windows, finding a chocolate tart instead of another drink, sensibly. The wine in her blood is slowing her down, she can feel it. She closes her eyes and eats in tiny bites, picking sections of pastry off and slipping them in her mouth. She’s not hungry. She’s restless. Thinking of… well, of Asami.

 

She can see her, sitting back around their dinner table with her hands clasped on her knee, biting her tongue under her smile as she waits for her turn to speak. Somehow all her makeup is still intact, but she feels... freer than she did at the beginning of the night.

 

Korra, on the other hand.

 

Korra kind of wishes it were harder to be Asami’s pretend girlfriend. Because the clock is ticking, and she’s sad about it.

 

She shouldn’t stare, but she’s staring. Well, if she has a right on any night it’s tonight. Asami catches her eye, of course, when her conversation comes to a lull. She stares right back for a minute - Korra isn’t sure what she’s trying to discern - and then she excuses herself, pushes her chair back and begins to walk over.

 

Korra blinks blankly at the figure of her approaching.

 

“Hey,” she says tentatively, hands on the front of her thighs, like she doesn’t want to disturb Korra. “Still not done eating?”

 

Korra jerks her head, handing Asami the rest of the tart. “I am now. Why -” she begins, as Asami pulls herself much closer and leans her head against the window, like Korra, “why are - you looked like you were having a lot of fun over there.”

 

Asami shrugs. “You didn’t.” The answer is perfunctory. Then she swallows and directs Korra’s gaze with only her eyeballs. “Don’t look, but Felix is looking.”

 

 _Him_. For goodness’ sake. Korra rolls her eyes. So this must mean that Asami thinks they need to be back on task. “And I guess you don’t want me looking lonesome while -”

 

“Shh, he’ll hear.” Her humour surprises Korra.

 

“But I’m whispering,” she whispers, her mood lightening.

 

“Maybe he can lip read.”

 

Korra giggles, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of Asami’s hair behind her ear. There, _Felix_. She scratches, lazily, as Asami gazes out of the window, watching the lights. She comes back to her after a few moments, drawing Korra from her reverie when she finds her eyes again.

 

Asami nudges her chin into Korra’s absently scratching hand. “What, do you have me confused for Naga or something?”

 

Korra feigns a delicate sob. “Just being a good girlfriend. You had a big win, remember, so I have to lay it on.”

 

Excuses.

 

Asami’s satisfied, though. She obviously likes the touch. In Korra’s peripheral vision, Felix glances their way again. There’s more than a hint of bitterness in his face, but disbelief, too, like he’s daring his eyes to deceive him. Korra would be happy to walk over and wipe it right off his face, but Asami’s looking tired.

 

“I’m finished if you are, by the way,” Asami says, as if on cue. “Done _drinking?_ ” Her eyes open with a clean blink.

 

“Why?” Korra says. “Have I done anything… untoward?”

 

She’s doing it right now - she knows. Lifting her other hand to frame Asami’s face as well. Dangerous territory, maybe, but it’s for their cause, right?

 

“‘Course not.” Asami shakes her head. She’s so still, with both Korra’s hands on her. Her breath remains gentle, but she swallows a couple of times before she speaks. “Thanks for such a good show.”

 

“Oh, my pleasure,” Korra says, her hands slackening onto Asami’s shoulders. “Can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy rubbing it in _someone’s_ face…” She squeezes light, sighs, maybe even sobers, before continuing. “I get it, you know. Why you thought we should plan everything out. I’m sorry if I was a little off.”

 

Asami considers for a moment. “Really? Well, you’ve been - you’re great.” She practically pouts as she nods. Then she laughs. “Now we just wait for Felix to bugger off, because I’m having the last word, and we can go home.”

 

Korra loves that pettiness of that, the kick she knows they’re going to get out of getting him to turn away first. Her eyes refocus on Asami’s face and some of that excitement transmutes into a different, nervous sort of anticipation. But she’s easy, loose from the drink.

 

Asami’s eyes are calm and twinkly.

 

Korra bites her lip, a little reckless with serenity. “So, should we kiss?”

 

-

Only Korra.

 

Asami swallows her laughter, only a high huff escaping. “Uh, he’d probably _like_ that.”

 

_So would I._

 

Korra shrugs one shoulder, conceding. _Worth a try,_ her face seems to say. Asami’s just a little stunned. She shifts her weight on her feet, catches her breath. Korra is red all over when she finds her face again.

 

“Listen, I know…” Asami begins, “I know this whole things was a bit weird.” In the following moment, she isn’t able to tell Korra’s self-conscious laughter from her own.

 

She feels it too. Asami feels her feeling it.

 

“But…” She stares into Korra’s clavicle. “We did pretty well, huh?” Korra makes a sound of assent in her throat. If only Felix would go already.

 

Suddenly, Korra brings a hand to her cheek again. Even despite the veritable forest fire suffusing her skin. She does have more balls than Asami. “Hold still,” she whispers.

 

As if Asami can do anything but. Quickly, Korra brings her forehead to Asami’s. She has to reach up a little for that, the warm skin of her neck tightening, under the curtain of Asami’s lashes as she glances down through them and keeps her breath even.

 

A matter of a second, but it’s enough. Felix, for all his shortcomings, has the grace to stop pretending not to watch. He sets the tumbler in his hand down hard on the bar and stalks away. Checkmate.

 

Korra should be triumphant. Instead she’s mostly ignorant, sparing him only a sedately gleeful smirk, nearly imperceptible.

 

Then Korra’s head dips forward again, but now no one is looking. Asami’s fit to burst.

 

-

 

Asami’s right, she’s kind of a shitty actor. It’s only fitting that Korra’s final, truly victorious move is the opposite of a smoothly deliberate performance.

 

It’s simply irresistible. She hopes Asami won’t mind. Their noses touch.

 

Asami pushes away, only an inch or so, her knuckles against the base of Korra’s neck. “How am I ever going to thank you?” She thinks she hears under her heartbeat.

 

It’s the plainest invitation Korra has ever received.

 

There’s a hallway around the side, adjacent to the main one that leads to the double doors. It’s where they end up, Asami’s fingers like a magnet around her wrist. After that they lock against her waist, the other hand grabbing her arm, her shoulder, her face, fumbling in the half-light.

 

Korra kisses her before she finds purchase. And again, Asami soft and vital under her hands.

 

At some point they separate for air, Asami’s nose in Korra’s cheek. “Korra. You’re… _so convincing_ ,” she breathes, making herself smile before anyone else, and it’s _so_ adorably Asami - Korra presses hot kisses on her face. Then she catches her own breath, calms, tilts her head up to offer her mouth again.

 

“Award for progress?”

 

It’s cheating, of course. Korra hasn’t been acting for a while.


End file.
